


Relaxing Activities After a Long Day

by misha_collins_butt



Series: Wincest/Weecest [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AND A BITCHY BOTTOM, Anal Sex, Analingus, Brother/Brother, Established Relationship, HE'S A BOTTOM BITCH, M/M, Sibling Incest, Tongue Fucking, Top!Sam, after-hunt sex, bottom!Dean, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23151817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_collins_butt/pseuds/misha_collins_butt
Summary: The boys come back from a hunt and Sam is ~in the mood~
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Wincest
Series: Wincest/Weecest [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597030
Comments: 5
Kudos: 104





	Relaxing Activities After a Long Day

**Author's Note:**

> 'Sup bitches, it's me, ya boi. I've had a terrible creative block lately (like the past month), and I haven't been doing anything but binge watching different shows. And I'm talking, I'm not painting, writing, drawing - hell, I'm barely singing. It's really frustrating because I have a couple unfinished things that I NEED to get around to but...ugh, I know I'm rambling. Anyway, maybe posting a fic will help me get back in the rink.
> 
> As always, DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this dynamic in real life and I do not want it to be canon.
> 
> I do not own the characters, but this is unbeta'd, so I do own the mistakes.

They burst into the motel room in a cloud of dirt and gun powder, the Impala's engine still clicking as it cooled down when they slammed the door shut.

Exhausted, Sam fell onto his back on the bed and closed his eyes, ignoring the discomfort of his earth-caked jeans and fluid-encrusted shirt. The weapons duffel thumped down onto the floor in the opposite corner as Dean sighed.

"I'm gonna go...scrub this blood off," Dean muttered, and Sam looked over at him to see the disgruntled face he was making at his hand. "Man," he continued to himself, voice pitching higher. "Fuckin' forest witches." He made a gagging sound and practically ran toward the bathroom.

Sam shook his head, letting his eyes fall closed once more as he kicked off his shoes. He must've drifted off at some point because the next thing he opened his eyes to was shower steam billowing out of the bathroom after Dean, who was clad only a loosely wrapped towel. A droplet of water clung to his short cropped hair before plummeting to his shoulder and meandering down his chest. Sam watched with delirious fascination.

His brother turned toward the dresser to excavate a shirt and some briefs from the top drawer, and Sam watched the toned muscles in his back ripple gracefully as he moved. He was enraptured every day by Dean's athletic stature, his mannerisms. The unbridled confidence and arrogant swagger of someone who grew up clueless about just how pretty they were, but slowly learned how to use it to get what they wanted. Sam never had that. Sam was always too big for his britches, cracked chassis and lumbering limbs, skinny and bony and long in all the wrong places. Though, when Dean had found out about the way Sam saw himself, he was so adamant to prove Sam wrong that he ended up giving Sam his first blowjob.

Dean had been cagey and disconcertingly quiet afterward for nearly a month, insistent that he couldn't touch Sam like that again because  _ 'Christ, Sammy, you're just a little kid' _ and Sam had argued that, technically, he was an  _ adolescent _ at the ripe old age of fifteen, but Dean had always had a steadfast conviction. When he decided something, he stuck with it until he could be proved empirically wrong.

That is, until it came to his precious Sammy, who was eventually able to convince him that he was worse off without having Dean as more than a brother, than he ever could be with Dean as strictly his brother, and  _ 'did he really want Sam going out and finding sex elsewhere, say with a random stranger that could kill him or make him sick?' _

And of course, that had been Dean's downfall. Not that the older man could complain much now, ten years after the fact. Especially not when Sam was positively salivating over he smooth globes of his ass when the towel dropped so he could pull on his underwear.

Without thinking, Sam pushed himself off the bed and approached his brother on light feet, shucking his filthy clothes as he went. Shirts, jeans, socks, boxers. When he reached the other hunter, he slid his hands up to Dean's still-bare waist and bent his head down to mouth hotly at the curve of Dean's neck where it met his shoulder.

Even as Dean widened Sam's access, he grumbled, "Not now, Sam," evidently taking immediate notice of the hard-on that Sam was pushing into his lower back.

"Come on, Dean," Sam murmured against the shell of his brother's ear. He didn't say much more than that, too tired to think up anything even resembling pillow talk. He did, however, snake his hands down until they were tucked into the waistband of Dean's briefs, squeezing at Dean's hips and pulling them back harder against his crotch.

Dean began to protest again, a grumpy 'Sam' making it halfway out his lips, but it turned into a moan as Sam wrapped a fist around the undeniable stiffy straining against the front of Dean's sweats, so it came out more like, "Sa- _ aaaah _ ..." which was exactly what Sam wanted to hear.

Pressing his lips to Dean's ear, Sam asked, low and husky, "You still want me to stop?" He knew damn well Dean didn't want him to stop. But he got a thrill out of the mindless shake of the head that Dean gave him because Dean's mouth was hung open and his eyes were closed and his brows were big hills above them and his head was leaned back on Sam's shoulder and he just looked so fucking gorgeous like that.

"Don't stop," Dean mumbled, already out of his head with lust, body loose against Sam's so the younger hunter had to hold him up. Not that that was much of a problem for Sam. Compared to some of the workouts Sam did to stay fit, Dean weighed nothing. "Oh, Sammy. My perfect Sammy. Fuck." He was just rambling at this point, but Sam took joy in knowing it was all for him, and only him.

Slowly, Sam started trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of Dean's throat, lightly cajoling him forward so he was supporting himself on the dresser. When he was sure Dean wasn't going to topple, Sam snuck his kisses onto the back of Dean's neck - the peaked protrusion at the top of his back, each vertebra of his spine, the lone dimple above his left buttcheek. Then, Sam yanked the sweats down and uncurled his hand from Dean's cock so he could place a stabilising hand on each hip. 

On his knees, carpet indenting his skin, Sam tugged Dean's hips back, encouraging him to lean forward on the dresser, which he did with an impatient huff, then pried Dean's cheeks apart with his thumbs to get a good look at that nicely shaved hole. The little cleft of muscle winked at him as Dean breathed harder and faster, anticipation of what Sam was going to do.

Sam stuffed his face tongue-first into the canyon between Dean's ass cheeks, moaning at the clean, soapy taste of Dean's skin. He smoothed his tongue over the entrance once before shoving past the furled rim and closing his mouth over it, sucking and slobbering and licking with fervor. Above him, Dean was already heavily sedated by pleasure, rocking back onto Sam's slick intrusion and panting out obscenities in strings of nonsensical praise. Dean trembled under his own flesh as Sam dove as far into his hole as humanly possible, moaning Sam's name over and over.

Never one to disappoint, Sam slithered a hand around to grip Dean's dick again and pumped him furiously. Dean's sanity wasn't long for the world; Sam could tell by the way he was gasping and bucking into the two sensations that barraged him from either side, that he was close. So, with a final, fiery effort, he stripped Dean's cock and tongue-fucked him at a punishing speed, until his big brother was spilling over his hand and Sam's name was ripping from his chest. 

Sam could hear the cum splatter over the top of the dresser, and smirked to himself as he continued to stroke Dean through the aftershocks, removing his mouth from Dean's hole.

When finally the last of his orgasm was gone from him, Dean let himself collapse against the dresser and catch his breath, and Sam rose up to loop his arms around Dean's middle and haul him over to the bed, where he plunked Dean down in a heap of mumbling satisfaction.

"Sammy," Dean reached for him, shockingly lucid for how fucked-out he'd seemed just a second earlier. "Come here, baby boy. Let me."

Sam didn't need any persuading - he clambered up onto the bed and settled himself back on his haunches beside his brother. Dean rolled over until he could drag himself closer and plant soft kisses along the inside of Sam's thigh. The older man positioned himself so he was splayed out from the waist-down and had his arms curled around Sam's back as he took Sam's member into his mouth. Sam nearly cried out at the sudden stimulation, hands flying up to tangle in Dean's damp hair. He felt Dean take in a steadying breath, then let his throat muscles go lax, and Dean was swallowing him down just the way he knew Sam liked. 

He allowed Sam to guide his head up and down, allowed Sam to fuck into his face until the younger man was loosing loud, drawn out moans. Sam liked the control, but he was no monster - he always warned Dean before he came, especially when it was like this.

"Gonna come in your mouth, big brother," he hissed, picking up the pace, and all Dean did was push his fingers harder into the meat of Sam's back and let out a reassuring hum that meant he was okay with that.

Sam reached his release, unloading thick spurts of cum down his brother's airway. He coated Dean's esophagus with his seed until he was no longer quivering with bliss, then let go of Dean's hair and pulled him up by the chin to slot their lips together. 

A gratified groan escaped Dean's mouth, and Sam caught it with his own, smiling into the kiss. He ceaselessly adored his brother, every sound and step and sigh, right down to the last freckle that spotted his skin like a leopard.

"Happy I convinced you to do that?" Sam whispered as he hooked his arms around his brother again and towed him up to the head of the bed where he laid them both down, facing each other.

Dean shot him a baleful glance, but rolled his eyes and smiled along, replying, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Spoiled brat."

Sam snorted and hugged his brother close.

"Then stop spoiling me," he suggested, feathering kisses along Dean's jaw.

Dean just tightened his clutch on Sam and beamed, "Never."

Sam wasn't going to argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are my life source. Pls don't let me die!


End file.
